The Sweet Sweets Taste of Victory
Poppy Pomfrey was a small, frail woman with blond hair turning a shrivelling silver. But that did not influence her liveliness, the demanding tone in her voice, or the determination she showed in her body language to get her way.
Barty had broken his hand after all, multiple small cracks to the bones that had made his hand start to turn a blue-ish purple. He’d expected it, but the pain should have given it away.
His knuckles were grazed, too, and the healing process kept being disturbed when he moved his hand to grab anything, or to write (for as far as he could), or to do anything else a 17-year-old wizard would need his dominant hand for.
"Yes, definitely broken. How did you say you hurt it again, Mr. Crouch?" She spoke calmy, standing in front of Barty, holding his wrist with one hand and supporting his hand with her other as she looked up at him with calm eyes.
"Healing charm went wrong." He lied easily, looking her straight in the eye as he did so with a stubborn coldness.
It was not even a lie, he did try to heal it himself, but for some reason his charm backfired instead and only shattered more bones when he had. Healing a hand was vastly different compared to healing a nose after all. He had learned that the hard way. Luckily, he was sure he would find a volunteer to train on.
She nodded slowly, put his arm down, and walked over to the other side of the room. Everything she did seemed calculated; the number of strides she needed to reach her destination, the neat folding of the bedding in the infirmary, and even the look on her face when she studied Barty's injury.
Madame Pomfrey had taken a single look for not much more than just a second at his hand to determine that he had broken it, and, honestly, he felt rather stupid now that he had calmed down. Who breaks their own hand out of frustration?
"Charms taught at this school don't break bones and skin. So, unless you've been digging in the restricted section and have been meddling with magic you shouldn't...." She appeared back in front of him, potion in hand, taking off the cap with a pop and holding it out for him to grab, but just out of reach.
Barty reached out but froze for a moment as he processed her words. He scoffed at her in disbelief and pulled back his hand. "What? You think I did this on purpose?" It was as if they were having a staring contest: both equally stubborn and not ready to back down. Poppy Pomfrey really was a headstrong woman.
She looked at him with an unreadable expression, so he raised a brow at her. Madame Pomfrey was still extending her hand without a word, and Barty knew that she would make him drink every drop if he refused. So, he took the potion with a sigh, it would mean that she had won--but who cared? --and swung it back, gagging when the vile taste trailed on his tongue and made its way down to his throat. He put the now half-empty goblet down on a nightstand while the witch started questioning him.
He could feel the bones and skin start to melt together after a second and it felt as if the layers of tissues were covered in thousands of fire ants while the horrid taste still covered each inch of his tongue. His hand felt itchy, but it was burning too. The skin had healed already, but his knuckles were still black and bruised.
"How have you been sleeping, Mr. Crouch?" He looked back up at her. The room was empty, except for a bed with drawn curtains, so she spoke freely.
Barty knew he must have had heavy eyebags, but he lately always had those, so it wasn’t strange for him. Tiredness always dragged on his feet from the moment he opened his eyes.
"I sleep fine," He shrugged, "No different from the usual." Again, not a lie, he’d never slept much better than he did now. Not since he was a child, anyways.
She nodded, thoughtfully, face unreadable.
"And you haven't been skipping any meals either?" She looked at Barty’s reaction intently as if his stone-cold disguise would falter for even a second and she would get a reason to keep a closer eye on him.
He sighed, rolling his eyes. Merlin, could this woman stop asking so many unnecessary questions?
"No, I'm fine, I told you. Can I go now?" His leg had started bopping up and down impatiently, wanting him to just move.
She studied him for a second, "Yes, fine, you can go. We don’t want you to miss dinner. Do we not Mr. Crouch?" She sounded sceptical, but she had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong.
He stood up without sparing her a second glance and just walked towards the door with long strides similarly to hers.
"And, Mr. Crouch," she started. He stopped walking and turned to her, hand already on the unnecessarily big doorknob with golden details.
"Be careful with your hand, will you? It might feel weaker than usually for a few days. And... take this potion in case you struggle to sleep."
He grabbed the potion with another stubborn sigh and left without another word, a new bandage around his knuckles that she told him he had to keep on for at least four hours. So, the first thing he did was throw the bandage into the trash.
He walked with his hands buried in his pockets, feeling the potion bottle in his pocket and playing with the cap as he walked the halls until the obvious sounds of chattering and cutlery came within earshot.
Evan would surely be waiting for him, and they’d pretend nothing had happened as they would always do. They’d look at each other and know that the other forgave him without a doubt.
Ignorance was the best medicine. He learned that from his father.
Most of the plates in the dining hall were about to be--or already--empty when he walked to his and his friends’ fixed seats. Barty noticed that there were a couple Slytherins having food fights on his left, attempting to hit some Gryffindor students by throwing potatoes and lamb stew. Snickering to their friends as Barty and Evan used to do when they were first years as well. On the other side of the table, where the older students were sat, were his friends; Evan laughing stupidly at something Dorcas had said, snorting pumpkin juice out of his nice, Regulus shoving his elbow into Evan’s side to shut him up with a disgusted look on his face, and Pandora attempting to cast some spell on Evan’s plate without him noticing, and... one empty plate. They’d kept his place for him, even when he acted like an arsehole.
Evan’s smile faltered as he noticed Barty approaching and before sitting down Barty just stood there with his chin raised as a sign of defiance. He looked over at each of his friends one by one before his eyes set permanently on Evans'. He noticed that Pandora and Dorcas exchanged a certain look that only girls could underetand and Regulus simply looked just bored as usual, but Evan looked back at Barty in the exact same way he always did during the aftermath of one of their arguments.
“Alright, Rosier?” Barty said as a peace offering, a pathetic attempt at an apology. He was the first of his friends to speak but after he had, the tension seemed to dissolve as Evan smirked and nodded back at him.
“Alright, Crouch." Evan responded and Barty took it as a sign to sit down and join his friends. Evan wasn’t angry. Why he wasn’t? That was still a mystery to everyone but Evan himself.
They never really did apologies. One of them got angry, or annoyed, but they instead responded with silence after a storm filled with yelling and an explosion of feelings.
Evan had apologised once for as far as Barty could remember but that was simply for something as stupid as bumping into him.
Barty sat down next to Evan, nudging him playfully with his arm, and that was that: fight over, calmness restored. Evan had forgiven his outburst, and they’d never mention it again. It was as simple as that.
“So,” Barty started, filling his place with some of the leftover kidney and beans pie and twirled his fork around as he tended to do with his wand as well. “Who’s ready for some revenge?” He held out the sleeping potion with a smirk.
Days earlier, Sirius and his nutjob friends had mastered a spell that tied Barty’s entire room to their beds with invisible ropes and stripped them down to their underwear. They’d only got free when Dorcas had finally had enough of waiting on Regulus to study after four hours.
None of them had been able to reach their wands, the Marauders having put them just out of their arm reach and the ropes could not be broken. None of them could even see, let alone feel the ropes; instead, feeling a constant tugging and chafing their wrists until they all bled. Barty would have enjoyed it, but he couldn’t even see Evan.
Dorcas took the potion from him, "A sleeping draught? That all you've got? No big plans to dissolve all their clothes or bewitch brooms?"
Barty sighed, "I never said how I was going to use it. Ev?" He turned to his left and raised a brow at Evan who couldn’t help but smirk back at him. “Right before mocks? That’s evil.” It was as if he could read his mind, and he had a certain spark in his eye that made Barty know that he was in. They deserved it after all.
“Where’d you get that anyways?” Pandora asked, her voice sounding as soft and gentle as always. That really was the thing with Pandora; she was Barty’s most heartfelt and lovable friend, but he’d never want to cross her in any possible way if he could help it. Dorcas was fun to annoy, and annoying herself too, but Pandora... she had something unsettling to her somehow. Barty couldn't explain it.
“Nicked it, where else?” He stuck out his tongue to her as he heard her sigh at him.
“I could have brewed that.” Regulus finally murmured. He preferred not adding much to the conversation and to observe instead. He and his brother were total opposites. Sirius was loud, impulsive, and annoying; but Regulus was quiet, strategical, and reserved, and he never acted on impulse. He made decisions based on a cool headspace, not on his heart or his feelings. Sometimes, it felt as if he had no feelings at all. Either he'd burned his feelings away, or he'd hid them for so long he'd forgotten how to even feel in the first place.
"Yes, well, last time I checked you wanted nothing to do with that bloodtraitor." Barty shot back, resulting in Regulus rolling his eyes.
"Whatever, just keep me out of it. I do not want to deal with your consequences again, Crouch." It was a warning and Regulus made sure Barty knew it.
"Relax, Reg," Barty threw a hand over Regulus' shoulder and ruffled his hair with his fist. "A little fun never hurt anyone."
Regulus froze first, then he got up abruptly, shoving Barty's hand off of him. "Don't touch me."
The entire hall seemed to quiet down the moment Regulus stood up. His voice was quiet as usual, but it felt loud and powerful now that the rest of the space seemed completely focused on the two Slytherin boys.
Barty rolled his eyes and raised his hands in defense with an expression that would probably make his father scoff. Sometimes he forgot how sensitive Regulus really was. He really did not like being touched.
Barty looked him directly in the eye, not backing down, somehow challenging him a bit to act out. Someone had to teach him to let go a little, and Barty had volunteered without having to be asked.
He felt Evan put a hand on his shoulder as to tell him to cut it out. It was gentle but firm, pressing down and squeezing comfortably.
He heard a loud laugh-Black--and an agitating way too loud voice trying much too hard--Potter--but both quieted down when the Marauders made their way towards the exit only to end up distracted by Regulus making a scene. "What's going on?" Barty still did not look away from Regulus but he recognised the voice instantly.
"Nothing, Black. Mind your business." Barty spoke in a low voice. He didn't even have to look up to know who it was.
Regulus broke eye contact first, turning to his brother, and Barty took it was a win.
"Nothing, everything's fine, Sirius. I was just leaving." Regulus answered his brother, but making no progress of actually doing so.
"Yeah, we're fine. We were just leaving." He heard someone--probably Mulciber--snicker in response and only then did Barty focus his eyes on the one and only Sirius Orion Black who was already clenching his fists and jaw.
Potter wasn't far behind him as he usually was. Just crawling behind Black as some sort of bodyguard. Loony Lupin wasn't far behind either; sticking out over the both of them. He was quiet but his length made up for his lacking demeanor makiny Lupin was hard to unsee.
Sirius reached out to his little brother, "Are you okay, Reg?" He asked softly. His eyes were concerned and loving, but Barty didn't care to notice.
"He said he was fine, Black you can let him go now." He hissed, but Sirius only let his eyes flicker for a second to Barty before redirecting his focus on his brother.
Barty sighed dramatically and looked bored at his nails.
"I'm fine, you can let me go now." But Sirius didn't let go.
"Reg..." Sirius started again, searching for the right words, but Barty interrupted him before he could continue his sentence. "Merlin, just get a move on and fuck off, yeah?"
Sirius now let go of his brother only to turn to Barty instead.
"Are you too thick to know when to shut up, Crouch?" Sirius's voice wasn't calm as Regulus', but instead rather direct and accusatory. He pointed a confronting finger at Barty's chest and Barty heaved himself up on the table with his back turned to it, turned around and took a step forwards Black.
Evan reached out to his arm, attempting to pull him back just as Potter was doing as well with his best friend.
Barty shrugged his arm free from Evan's grip, stepped closer, and just smirked. "Why don't you learn where your place is, Black? Or should I tell mummy about your filthy halfbreed boyfrie-" he spat out the words 'halfbreed' and 'boyfriend' with so much disgust as he could muster, meaning to bait Sirius and it seemed to work as his face was met with Black's fist before he could finish his sentence.
They were in the middle of the Great Hall, filled with students and professors during the busiest time of day. The one incredibly stupid time he could possibly be picking a fight.
He felt the collision instantly to the right side kf his face. Sirius Black could really throw a punch, but so could Barty. He stepped back to refind his balence and launched forward at Sirius immediately as if it was a chain reaction, punching back as hard as he could. Fist meeting Black's eye with a dull sound.
It was chaos after that, utter chaos from the moment Sirius pushed Barty backwards and followed with his fist. They were on top of each other in less than a second and the entire room seemed to disrupt into complete disarray.
He felt and heard something crack when Black's fist hit his nose harshly and blood started pouring out as a hazard but he made sure to retaliate by punching Sirius' nose just as hard if not harder.
There was no time to think really, only to act. Taking out his anger, feelings, and lack of either on someone he despised very much sure had it's advantages. It had to be better than therapy.
Barty didn't have time to focus on Potter attempting to step between them, pushing Barty away which caused Evan to launch at James. Regulus just walked away somewhere in the midst of it all, and Lupin launched towards Evan as well and pushed him backwards, which made Evan hit Lupin. It was a literal loop. One hit the other and the other hit back even harder.
Students had formed a cirkle around them: some gasping witu shocked eyes, and some yelling excitedly and only encouraging the fight. Everything was happening at the same time. It was fast, yet each movement seemed to last an eternity.
Barty was on top of Sirius now, and he lashed out with as much precision and power as he could before Black had turned them around, punching him twice in the face.
He tried his best to block the attack, but could only manage half in time.
Barty felt the weight being lifted off him as Evan threw Sirius on the floor, his head hitting the stone harshly. Evan looked angry, livid even, but his eyes radiated the same insane look Barty had in his eye, only more calm and collected.
Lupin gripped Evan by the shoulders harshly and his head hid the table. That was going to hurt.
Evan's body hit the floor and luckily everyone just stopped completely when Dumbledore's mighty voice overpowered all other sound in the room.
"QUIET"
Barty sat up, head felt woozy and instead of the adrenaline he'd felt the second before. It had now mixed with the overpowering burning of his lungs. He tasted blood in his mouth and a throbbing headache was starting to form.
Dumbledore stood where he'd sat down for dinner earlier. He'd waited a second before speaking again and had lowered his voice as all focused their attention on the headmaster.
"Mr. Black, Mr. Crouch, and all others involved, if you'd be so friendly to follow professor McGonnagall to her office. The rest of you, please return to your common rooms." He motioned at their professor without taking his eyes of Barty. He was always hard to read and it almost seemed as if he was entertained by their fight.
Dumbledore didn't really speak in friendly request, they were more orders disguised as a question or statement. One could knowledge that instantly when seeing the power and effect he had on people. He made sure people listened one way or the other. He made them listen and they wouldn't feel obligated to do so, but still would be forced with an underlining coercion most would fail to notice.
Barty let out a dry laugh, breath heaving, letting Dorcas pull him up. He felt the blood coat his teeth and he ran his tongue along the trail, smirking because of the bruise that was definitely going to form below Black's eye, the split lip, and the bloody nose that he wiped away angrily, still ready to launch at Barty if he got the chance. He looked almost like a wild animal.
McGonnagall's heels ticked on the stone floor with each step she took and she stopped right in front of them. "Crouch, Black, Potter, Lupin. My office now. And someone call Madame Pomfrey, please."
That was when he turned around and saw Evan clutching his head frantically, blood oozing out. Barty scrambled up instantly. He no longer felt triumph or satisfaction, only rather concern.
He slid down next to Evan instantly who groaned in pain.
"Crap- Evan-" Barty started. This was his fault. Always his fault. He'd hurt Evan again.
"Shit- I'm sorry." He gently moved Evan's hand from the wound, squeezing it in comfort and inspecting the wound without touching it. It was a scratch of about two inches long, for as far as he could see below his now red-soaked hair.
Evan himself looked faint and Barty seemed to forget his own injuries entirely. He looked at Pandora, he felt panicked. Where was Madame Pomfrey?
Pandora sat down next to him and put a hand on Barty's shoulder. How could she be so calm? Her brother was on the floor, covered in blood and he'd caused it. How could she be so damn calm?
Madame Pomfrey ran into the room and hey eyes widened. Her heels ticking against the floor the same way McGonnagalls' had just now.
"Mr. Crouch. Now. Rosier will be fine." McGonnagall put a guiding hand on his arm to pull him up. "His sister will take care of him." She said the last part with meaning of sounding tender, to comfort him.
He stood up, fists clenching and followed McGonagall.
Loony Lupin was going to pay for that.